10 years later.

The streets of Cheesebridge remained just as empty on this night as they had been for years, the curfew by this point becoming just a part of life for the people of the town. As did the people's fear of the Box Trolls, which had definitely run rampant in their minds as a genuine and normal fear after the incident of the 'Trubshaw baby'. Children were locked down more tightly, watched at all time to make sure they never strayed from the covers of their beds to the dark world outside.

The very center of town was no different, the darkness of night hiding away most of the abandoned streets. If it were this way during the daytime, people would assume this town an ancient deserted city, it was that empty. There was no leniency anymore in allowing the smallest of light to escape from the curtains, leaving no small light to help as a guide through the streets, no sense of the warmth and happiness that might be behind those homes.

No one was just cautious anymore, they were more like fanatics. And what was worse, was that that was part of their usual routine now, always being on edge, always being afraid. Being always on edge and afraid made them unable to have time to question, to wonder or think about the environment around them. They feared because it was demanded that they should, and this society always gave in to demands.

From the center of town, in the highest building in all of Cheesebridge, there was a peak through curtains, a small sliver of light as eyes looked down to the darkness below. The eyes were small, belonging to a child as they searched through the night. The curtain was pulled back to its proper place after the sound of a reprimanding, yet gentle voice.

"Winnie, please stay by my side if you're going to be in here," The voice belonged to Olive, who had certainly grown in the past ten years, her features refined and now better suited to her face. Certainly she had grown into her looks at her current age of twenty six, only made better by the softness in her eyes when she looked down at the child she had been charged to take care of for the past decade. However when it looked to anyone else, those eyes would turn as cold and piercing as ice shards, making her features twist to one of hatred and guarded pain.

The child, who had also grown into a young lady, huffed under her breath before sitting by her Nanny, crossing her arms in aggravation. So annoyed was the child that didn't notice how much she acted like the paid carer, her attitude towards others being just as guarded as Olive's, though there was nothing for her to hide. Olive had noticed this herself however, and would take a deep breath of regret, wishing that she could have gone back in time to the point where the attitude was picked up, and instead influenced her with empathy instead of guarded pain and anger.

Still, that didn't mean the woman didn't find the child's actions somewhat amusing in an ironic sense. Olive hummed to herself as she quickly braided Winifred's wild red curls into two braids, a usual routine for the child's bedtime that by this point Olive could do it with her eyes shut, which she did. The past decade had given her a lot of time to be able to do things without even thinking about it.

The best of it was her sowing, which after all those years of being an apprentice and working hard to block out any wayward thoughts that she didn't want. After all those years of being an apprentice, she was now one of the best in her field, her stitches now perfect in alignment and pattern as she sowed, the action looking more as though her hands glided over the material before she was quickly finished.

This was a great profession to have, since it meant more pay in the sense of being a seamstress and repairing the dresses and suits of the lords and ladies of Cheesebridge. In the past ten years she had certainly had quite a bit of money passing through her hands and into her savings, quite different from when she had lived with her family as a teenager, where every coin was made with tears and the hardest work she ever did.

But Olive knew that it didn't matter how much money went into her pocket, it would never fill that hole in her heart where home had once been. So, instead she would ignore the hole, sowing whenever she wasn't looking after Miss Portley-Rind, the actions making her thoughts turn blank apart from focusing on the material, needle and thread. It made her feel whole sometimes, but that feeling would always pass. Still, it was better to Olive in her opinion to feel whole for at least a few moments instead of feeling empty all of the time.

Winifred stood from her seat and looked over the intricate sowing that her Nanny had been doing, seeing the stitches that seemed unbroken and going for meters down the material. The child suppressed a sigh of boredom and walked back to the curtain covered windows, wanting to take another peak, hoping to find the slightest corners or shadows that could be described at least as maybe Box Trolls.

The creatures fascinated the ginger girl, at least the rumors about them did. But she kept her fascination to herself whenever she was around her Nanny, since the briefest mentions of boxes alone seemed to make the woman very sad. Knowing that her Nanny's last name was Trubshaw and that many lords and ladies that were her father's friends often whispered behind Olive's back, Winifred decided that it probably wouldn't be the best idea to ask why.

Still, the girl couldn't help it if she wanted to just take a quick peak while her Nanny was too busy to notice.

The curtain was pushed back again, just in time for her to see the shadow of one of the creatures, and the small amounts of metal they left behind. Winifred gasped in excitement, which her Nanny noticed and answered back with a silent questioning look as to why she by the window again. The girl grinned innocently and backed away from the window, her mind meanwhile racing with thoughts of Box Trolls coming to get her in the night, and only one way to make sure that 'didn't happen'.

"I must go see father," She said aloud, which again was answered back by the Nanny, but this time with an exhausted sigh.

"Please don't bother your father Winnie, he's in a meeting with the other White Hats," But by the time Olive was finished talking, Winifred was already out of the room and down the steps that would lead to the meeting room where her father and his associates were discussing 'important business'. And by important business, it was more meant that they were snacking on the best cheeses in the entire town. Olive sighed quietly in aggravation and place down her needle and threads before quickly going after the child, having to pause for a moment though to try and take a breath so she could pursue.

Damned tight corsets, the bane of her existence and yet necessary to wear if she wanted to stay in Lord Portley-Rind's good graces. Every time she had to pause for a breath, it only reminded her how she had promised herself as a teenager that she would never wear the ghastly, trouble causing things. But then again, the older Olive that she was today had broken a lot of promises she had made herself, and had instead felt as though she became the very thing she hated.

Domesticated. A good pet or trophy for the lord and ladies of court to feel proud over, that they had apparently evolved 'such a boring wall flower into a wonderful rose', or something of that description. They spent years pricking and preening at her in the beginning, scolding her when she didn't curtsey just right or ate with the wrong fork at dinner parties. Every lesson that she learned to please them made her feel less like herself, but all of that wasn't even the worst part about it.

No, the worst part of all her training before this point to make her a 'proper' lady, was the whispers behind her back or outright proclamations to her face about their opinions of her father and that terrible night that changed her life. There were mutterings and speeches about how he had been a fool to not lock the door, which was why the baby was taken by Box Trolls in the night and never seen again. Say that he was foolish to pursue them alone, which was why he vanished to.

They would talk of him, as if they knew him better than she did herself.

And all the while she had to stand there, smile and pretend as though it didn't bother her at all. Domesticated did mean not putting up a fight.

They would mumble under their breaths sometimes of how much 'better' she was now that her father couldn't corrupt her mind with his strange ideals, such as her actually having an opinion in matters that concerned her. And when it was all over at night, while Winifred slept dreaming little girl dreams, Olive would stay up and attribute a tear to every horrible word, every mean statement said with the up most of ignorance imaginable.

She still cried sometimes, but only when they couldn't see as the darkness of their curfew hid it from sight.

Olive shook her head as she descended the stairs, trying to keep her mind on the present as Winifred suddenly appeared at the bottom, her father's White Hat in her hands though it seemed a might smudged by cheese on the very rim. The Nanny gave the child a quick look, and in seeing the defiant yet hurt expression crossing the girl's face she knew immediately that this could not end well.

"Winnie," The use of the girl's name was more of a warning not to do whatever it was she was thinking of doing. The girl didn't listen however, a common problem that she had; that Olive sometimes hoped would not be cowed away from the child by the ladies and lords as they had done to her in growing up. Winifred ran quickly up the stairs, the child knowing that because of the tightness of her corset that Olive would not be able to pursue at the same pace. So by the time Olive did manage to scale her way back up the stairs and into the room, it was obvious that it was too late.

The window was open, Winifred was glaring out it into the world beyond, and her hands were empty of any White Hat that she had been holding before. It took a few steps to reach the sight of the window, and see the white material of the top hat now off into the centre of the street.

"Winnie, what have you done?" The woman turned to the ginger child, who now seemed to actually grasp what kind of trouble she was in, and was about to go tearing off out of the room again. But before the girl could start even revving her inner engines, Olive grabbed at her arm to stop her and as quickly as she could possibly manage in a corset, walked quietly down the steps to the front door of the manor, clicking and flicking back all of the locks on the door before eventually managing to get it open.

Olive took a deep breath as she began to already feel the cold night air creep through the slightly opened door, trying to shove down a festering ball of worry and fear that for some reason had started to form in the pit of her stomach. Winifred wasn't struggling against her grip any more, and was instead now stuck to her side, looking out into the darkness where the shadows seemed to be constantly moving.

"It's okay," Olive assured the child in whispers, pointing out into the dark where thankfully not that far away a White Hat was laying on the ground, "Your father's hat is just there, we can go get it back, wipe it clean and he'll never have to know this happened,"

They walked out into the darkness together, hand in hand as it seemed what would usually take a few seconds to reach the distance that the hat was, was taking hours. But thankfully they managed to get there uninterrupted. At least they were undisturbed from their task until Olive was leaning over to pick up the precious top hat from the dirty ground, when she was disturbed by Winifred suddenly giving a squeak of fright.

Immediately standing to attention, Olive held the girl close to her and looked out into the darkness where Winifred was pointing with a shaking hand. But there didn't seem to be anything there, at least not at the first look. When the woman looked again however, she could see two lights that could best be described as eyes, looking at them. Winifred peeked through her shelter of Olive to see the eyes as well, and called out to it, her voice more fearful than before.

"Who's there?"

Expecting to see a Box Troll step into the street lamp (which was strangely still on despite it now being past curfew,) Olive stood in front of Winifred, her back and shoulders now squared and ready to defend herself and the child, despite the corset that was protesting that action. At least, she would draw attention to herself while the girl ran back to the safety of her home which was not more than twenty steps away.

In any case, it was very surprising that instead of the familiar build of a Box Troll stepping into the light, it was a boy.

He was as thin as a rake, and for some reason had a box with an egg symbol on it around his midsection and a strange headwear on that had lights attached to it on both sides of his temple, which would explain the strange lights that Olive had thought were eyes peering through the darkness. All at once the woman felt a sense of complete annoyance and embarrassment in her for being so easily fooled, and was about to scold the boy herself on him being outside so late after curfew (despite the obvious fact that she and Winifred were doing the same) and dressing as a Box Troll, when Winifred interrupted her.

"Who are you boy?"

He lifted a part of his headgear so that they could see his face better, but then again it was pretty dark out so Olive couldn't see anything anyway. The answer that he gave back was certainly more than just a little confusing.

"Boy?"

But neither Olive nor Winifred really had time to ask another question as suddenly to Box Trolls appeared on either side of him, grabbing him by the shoulders and shoving him back into the darkness. Olive called out a very helpless 'no' and tried to run after them, but stopped in her tracks when she saw the familiar headlights of the Red Hat automobile, and instead went back to Winifred's side as they watched it chase the boy and two Box Trolls down the street.

"We have to go back inside, pick up the hat and let's go,"

They both turned to do just that, when Olive noticed that the Hat was not on the ground, but now in someone's hands. And thought she only had the help of the manor's open door and nearby street light to let her see who it was, Olive had a feeling that she would known anyway.

Mr. Snatcher, who looked not a day older but still somehow so much uglier than when Olive was a teenager, was holding the hat up for inspection, looking it over as if it were the most precious thing in the world. His crooked nose and beady eyes did not look at the woman and child as he first spoke, his rumbling and drawling tones still making Olive's flesh crawl as she pulled Winifred even closer to her than before.

"Someone's out past curfew, very dangerous,"

For whatever reason that Olive didn't want to think about, Winifred piped up from the woman's arms as they protectively held her aways from the creepy man.

"I saw a boy," At this comment the man finally looked at the two of them, his expression for a moment showing annoyance that the child had bothered to bring it up, which Olive replied with an intense glare and tighter hold around the girl. Still, the expression on his face then changed to fake confusion and nonchalance as he waved his hand dismissively.

"All I saw was filthy Box Troll monsters," He then looked down at them again, as if he were finally seeing who they were for the first time, and his demeanor once again changed to the one that society wanted him to portray to the young woman and little girl as he bowed low, his beady eyes however, never straying from Olive.

"Miss Portley-Rind, Miss Trubshaw, allow me to escort you home." Of course Winifred had to be her usual self and struggled out of Olive's over protective hold, turning away from the offer from Mr. Snatcher as she held her nose in the air, much like she knew she was allowed to do. Olive watched her all the while, a little amused that she would talk this way to such a frightening man, but also afraid of what he might do at being rejected.

"I can escort myself thank you," While the child's back was turned, Olive could see the look of anger cross his face before he looked back to the hat, and smirked almost evilly. It didn't take long for Winifred to guess that he was not going to give her the hat as he instead walked off towards the manor's front doors, his strides being much wider than the corset wearing Olive's or little girl Winifred's. He seemed to be mocking them as he talked to them both.

"How did this hat find itself, all the way out here?" He was definitely mocking them with his long drawl and smirk that already told that he knew how it got out here. Still, Winifred being her child-like self tried to come up with an excuse, the best one she could manage apparently being that the wind had somehow blown it out of her grip and down to the street below. Seeing a chance to mess with them more, Mr. Snatcher checked the wind flow by licking his finger and lifting it into the air as they walked up the steps.

"Must have died down, suddenly," He hisses the last word and once again Olive clutches the child to her as if he were going to snatch her away any second. He continued walking on and they tried to follow after him, Olive for the first time speaking in this whole situation to the Box Troll exterminator.

"There really is no need for you to come inside," Her tone was hardened, and she was hoping that he would just take the hint, give Winifred the hat and leave them both alone. But of course that was not what truly happened, as instead he only seemed more pleased that she had spoken to him, and grinned even wider so they could see his yellowing horrible teeth.

"Oh but as a gentleman Miss Trubshaw, I insist." He turned back around before Olive could think of a decent retort, opened the door and stepped into the manor's front foyer, his voice now echoing off the walls of the manor as he called out for Lord Portley-Rind. There was a rustle of noise behind the meeting room door before eventually his Lordship made an appearance, stepping out of the room to look down on who it was that had interrupted his 'important business'.

"What is going on?" At seeing Mr. Snatcher at the very beginning of the star case, Lord Portley-Rind seemed to get his answer. Olive, remembering her place no matter how much she would like to forget it as the others of the White Hat walked out of the meeting room to see what all the commotion was, curtsied low, her eyes however remaining on Winifred just in case.

"Apologies your lordship, I found something out on the street that belongs to you," Mr. Snatcher held out the White hat where it could be seen, and Lord Portley –Rind immediately went to fetch it back, only to be annoyed when it was obvious that the red clad man was not going to let go of it. There was some usual banter that went on between Mr. Snatcher and his Lordship on how exactly one receives a White Hat and all the responsibilities, plus benefits that were leased from it. All the possibilities of getting a White Hat seemingly galaxies away from what Mr. Snatcher were able to do, and what he was.

At least that was until Mr. Snatcher started mentioning something that Olive had never heard about before.

"Fortunately, we still have our little agreement don't we your Lordship? When I destroy every last Box Troll in this town, I shall earn my White Hat and join you in the tasting room," Mr. Snatcher had scaled the steps while talking of this agreement that was very new to Olive's attention, the red clad man looking into the room that just behind the other White hated men, where all different aromas of cheese was floating out.

This action was very much cut short by the door being slammed shut by the three White hated men, Lord Portley-Rind smirking to himself as he joined his fellow members at the top of the stairs, twirling his mustache with his finger as he usually did whenever he was being facetious to someone.

"Good Lord, not sure who should be more terrified, the Box Trolls or us!" The White hated men laughed with him for a moment as was socially meant, and then finally it seemed that the conversation went back to how the hat had managed to get outside in the first place. Mr. Snatcher grinned once again and turned back to Winifred and the still painfully curtsying Olive, his now amused once more as he looked down at them both. His Lordship however, was not as amused.

"I was told; the wind had something to do with it,"

Lord Portley-Rind looked down at the older woman and his daughter, a brief look of annoyance crossing his features as Winifred looked back to with the biggest apologetic eyes the small girl could muster on cue. When that didn't seem to work, she went for apologizing aloud instead.

"The wind eh?"

"Father I'm so-" She was interrupted however, by Mr. Snatcher once more as he bid everyone farewell, Olive once again feeling his eyes staring at her form as she continued to curtsy.

"-Sorry can't stay, too much work to do. Miss Portley-Rind, Your Lordship, Sirs, Miss Trubshaw, I bid you all goodnight. I'm sure we'll be seeing each other again very, very soon." There was a moment of silence after he had back out of the front foyer and outside once more, the front door clicking shut almost silently (a far departure from what Olive remembered of his visits in her old home). However that was broken almost immediately when the Box Troll exterminator opened the door again, gave his head measurements for a hat, then finally left.

Olive had never been so glad to see someone finally just leave.

There was some more awkward silence as Winifred attempted to talk to her father about what she had done, tried to say that this was a perfect opportunity to talk about their problems as father and daughter. And when that didn't seem to work she tried to tell him of the boy that she and Olive had seen with the Box Trolls, but of course that was cut off by his Lordship and his White hated associates walking back into the tasting room and shutting the door behind them. Olive got to finally stand up from her painful curtsying position and patted Winifred gently on the back.

The older woman tried to comfort the child with words on how he would understand someday, but even Olive knew that it was falling deaf ears, so eventually she gave up and led Winifred back upstairs to her room where she was finally tucked into bed and read a story that for once didn't have monsters in it. It was only after Olive was sure that Winifred had brushed her teeth and was tucked in tight that she actually mentioned something to the child.

"Winifred, about the man that interrupted you father's meeting tonight," Olive looked back to the child, who was thankfully paying complete attention to her while she was talking, "He is not a good person to be around on your own, no matter what someone might try and tell you otherwise. If you ever find yourself alone with him at all, you call for me and I'll help you, okay?"

Winifred nodded in agreement, the woman could tell that she was taking it seriously due to the expression on her face, and after a nod of her own she bid the little girl goodnight and when to bed herself.

It was only as Olive had just laid her head down on the pillow and looked up at the ceiling of her room, where she had stuck pictures of planets and stars while his lordship and ladyship weren't looking nor criticizing her room, that Olive realized something she didn't know how she could have possibly forgotten.

Tomorrow was the tenth anniversary of the 'Trubshaw baby' incident.

Ten years since her family had been taken from her.

Then, like every anniversary before now, Olive found that she couldn't sleep.

Olive hated the Trubshaw baby remembrance days more than anything else in the world. The woman didn't even know she could feel so much hate before the idea for the remembrance was first suggested. Her reasoning for hating this yearly exercise weren't just because it was a horribly tragic and personal moment in her life that didn't seem like something she would ever be getting over completely in the near future.

It was more because they treated it like a festival.

Balloons, party games, even dress ups to repeat the horrid affair until it became nothing more than a money making opportunity to these people. It made her sick; it angered her so completely that she no longer had the words to describe her upset at such a horrid twisting of that day.

The worst part in it all however was not just that she had to go because Winifred always wanted to see it, but also because of the yearly reenacting and song singing of the occasion by the well known and apparently well liked (though Olive hated them with such a fiery passion, probably more than she did the festival itself) Madame Frou Frou.

Every year this strange woman that wasn't even from this town would tell the 'story', because that was all it was to her, a 'story' and not the worst moment in her life. And every year the story would be told completely wrong in Olive's opinion, (not that anyone ever cared to hear her opinion anyway).

It was even in the slightest suggestion that her father hadn't taken his son's safety in account one night and because of it, he and the baby were eaten by Box Trolls that angered her to no end. But still, Olive could never really decide what was worse about the song that Madame Frou Frou insisted on performing every year. If it was because the horribly descriptive explanations of her families end at the hands of Box Trolls, or the fact that they actually bothered to include her in the 'story' as well.

Daughter Trubshaw was so sad

When she heard the fate of her brother and dad

So the little girl let out a mournful cry so loud

It broke every window in the town

Every damned year, every time that verse would come up in Frou Frou's song she would feel eyes searching, waiting for her to feel embarrassed or sometimes even smile at being mentioned. But she wouldn't gave them the satisfaction of a reaction and instead glared holes into Frou Frou's skull. How could they even expect her to manage a smile at a song that was made about the horrid deaths of her family at the hands of what her father mistakenly thought were gentle creatures? How could she ever smile again when such horrible jokes were made at the expense of the dead?

Finally, just as every other year, the song ended and the crowd dispersed, Olive made her way to the back of the stage where Winifred would be waiting for her, talking admittedly about the show and how great she was in the main role of the Trubshaw baby, not seeing the pain that etched its way across the usually blank expression that her nanny would wear. In the meantime, whenever someone attempted to sell something with this festival's hands on it to either her or the little girl, Olive would shut them up very quickly with such a withering glare that made them feel as small as they should.

However, this year as Olive went to the back stage to retrieve Winifred once again, she was surprised to find that the child was not there waiting for her. Not wanting to look as fearful as she was inside, Olive started walking the path they usually did every other year in the hopes that maybe Winifred was just a few steps further ahead than her, because she had for some reason taken off without waiting for her first. For a time to Olive however, it seemed as though Winifred was nowhere in sight.

It took less than five seconds for Olive to feel as though she was going to have a heart attack. Just the thought of going back to Lord Portley-Rind and telling him that she didn't know where his daughter was, would most certainly have her discharged from his service. Olive knew she hanging on a thin thread as it was, what with the incident that happened last night, since it was pretty obvious that his Lordship was not happy with either her or Winifred.

And already Olive could see what would lie in store for her if she managed to get herself discharged from the Portley-Rind household. She would be homeless, soon penniless, and then she would be helpless to refuse any generous hands of help, at least that was how the society of Cheesebridge said it had to be. She would be helpless to refuse marriage of any kind, since she would only be further seen as ungrateful, and cast out altogether.

It would be when she was helpless that Mr. Snatcher would make his move, Olive knew that he was just waiting for the chance that she would be fired from her current place, she knew this since whenever he was around, she could just feel his eyes watching her, waiting for the screw up that would have her unable to get away from his 'generous proposal'.

Olive was walking faster now, fear edging its way onto her face as she was starting to become frantic to find even a glimpse of ginger hair. She was looking everywhere, searching every place imaginable, when suddenly she got that glimpse she had been praying for. And that glimpse was Winifred, running down Milk Street to the turning point where it became Curd's Way. Immediately Olive started to give chase, happy in the secret fact that she had decided to not where a corset that day, but that didn't mean she was able to keep up with the sprightly child.

When reaching the end of Curd's Way and accepting that she would need to ask for help, Olive stopped in her tracks as she saw the Red Hat factory overhead, thinking to herself on how unfair it was that just think about how you want to avoid someone, and then end up running into them. Olive started to walk past the factory, not wanting to ask anyone there for help as she figured that she'd run into Winifred at some point.

However it was just as she was taking another step that she saw Winifred again, with a boy. At first she wanted to immediately step in, until she realized that it was the boy from last night. With her interests peaked, Olive took a step back to hide behind some fence posts to watch what was happening. For some reason the boy and Winifred started running, and it was only until Olive looked up that she saw what she was quite sure was Mr. Gristle from the Red Hats falling practically out of the sky and attempting to grab them both as he fell towards them.

For a moment Olive just watched this go on, mouth open a little in surprise and confusion. The strange boy and Winifred thankfully got away just in time by opening a man-hole cover and jumping down to the sewers below. Mr. Gristle however landed a few second to late as his face became acquainted with that same man-hole cover, the sight of it having Olive bit her bottom lip in sympathy pain.

Not two seconds after this had occurred, the other Red Hats, including Mr. Snatcher went outside, talked for a bit, and then went back into the factory with the clearly unconscious Mr. Gristle. This smelled of suspicion to Olive, and she quickly thought herself up a plan on what to do next.

Olive was thankful that she had at least some idea of where Winifred was now, so the woman was sure that she could go after her later and bring her home on time for Lord Portley-Rind's party. What had happened in the Red Hat Factory to make her and this strange boy run away was what Olive was the most curious about the most at that moment; at least enough that she had made the decision to check out the factory first and find Winifred next. So, with her plan in mind, Olive walked slowly to the factory's main door, unsurprised to find it open as she walked inside.

Please review, constructive criticism always welcome.